The Sunshine of Hogwarts, Snape

"May I have your name?"

Following behind the house-elf, Harry climbed the stairs of Malfoy Manor and asked curiously.

Dobby trembled slightly, turned to look at Harry, and pointed a thin finger at himself.

"Y-You're asking... asking Dobby?"

"Alright, now I know your name is Dobby."

Harry looked at the bandages wrapped around its head.

"How did you get hurt? Did you trip while coming downstairs?" he asked uncertainly, as he wasn't sure whether house-elves even needed to use stairs. The elves he'd seen before would just pop into existence and pop away.

"N-No, Dobby did something wrong, so Master made Dobby punish himself."

Dobby avoided eye contact and spoke timidly.

Harry was a little shocked.

He had seen house-elves twice before… once at Slughorn's house and another time in Hogwarts Castle.

Although the elves living there also had to work, they seemed healthy and live a comfortable life.

However, the sight of Dobby made Harry realize that not all elves were treated so normally.

"Was it Mr. Malfoy? How could he do that?!"

At Harry's words, Dobby's entire body trembled. In fright, it instinctively began banging its large head against the wall!

"Dobby is bad! Dobby is bad!"

"Stop! Stop it!" Harry quickly tried to intervene.

Dobby continued stumbling forward, leading Harry to the third floor before finally stopping in front of a door.

It clearly didn't dare knock and instead turned to bow deeply at Harry.

"T-This is Young Master Draco's room."

Once Harry was brought there, Dobby didn't linger for even a second.

Pop… it vanished right in front of him.

Harry glanced at the portraits lining the hallway. The figures in the frames all seemed to be ancestors of the Malfoy Family, dressed in luxurious robes with haughty expressions.

Some of the animated portraits even started loudly commenting on Harry's appearance as soon as they noticed him, as if he were some wild country bumpkin.

Harry scratched his head uncomfortably. This manor didn't feel like a place he belonged.

Now, he could only hope that the boy living behind this door was at least somewhat friendly.

Knock knock knock!

He raised his hand and knocked on the door.

He didn't have to wait long before the door opened, revealing a boy with pale blond hair, grey eyes, and a pointed, pale face.

There was an innate arrogance in his demeanor, his chin tilted up as if he were looking down his nose at Harry.

Honestly, Harry's first impression of this boy wasn't great… completely different from when he'd first met Luna or Hermione.

"Hello, I'm Dudley Dursley."

Harry introduced himself politely.

However, the blond boy just snorted lightly and asked, "So?"

"My teacher is Severus Snape. He brought me to visit your home. Um... Mr. Malfoy said I might get to know you? You're Draco, right?"

Harry tried his best to remain polite. He didn't want to embarrass his teacher.

"Oh~ So you're Snape's student."

Draco drawled his words, as if he'd already heard about Harry before.

But the way he referred to Severus made Harry frown slightly… though he held back from saying anything.

By then, Draco had already stepped aside, still speaking in that same cocky, condescending tone.

"Come in."

It sounded unpleasant, like some kind of begrudging allowance.

Harry entered the room and was stunned to find that it was even bigger than Petunia's entire living room!

Inside was a massive four-poster bed, at least three meters wide, with snow-white wool carpets covering the floor. He felt the enormous crystal chandelier cost more than Vernon could earn in five years.

There were also various posters hanging on the walls. Some of them Harry recognized, as they seemed to be players of a sport called Quidditch in the Wizarding World, but most of the others were unfamiliar to Harry.

Draco noticed Harry's eyes on the posters on the wall, and there was a rare hint of interest in his voice.

"You've seen the 1986 Quidditch World Cup too? Maxime Olympe III was amazing, right? He was the captain and Seeker for the American National Team. It was his first time leading them to the World Cup, and he had such a standout performance!"

"My Father gave me a dozen Galleons to bet for fun back then, and I put it all on Maxime. But in the end, Madagascar won the Cup. I was so mad I even smashed a glass in the VIP box!"

Harry was completely lost. While he was interested in flying broomsticks, he had no idea what Quidditch was, let alone the Quidditch World Cup.

He didn't pretend to understand either and just answered honestly.

"Sorry, I don't know any of that. I don't even know what Quidditch is."

"You don't know what Quidditch is?"

Draco sounded utterly incredulous. He crossed his arms and looked Harry up and down.

"Well, do you know Wizard's Chess? The kind where the pieces fight on their own? My Father took me to the International Wizard Chess Championship earlier this year. It was boring, but at least I know the rules."

"Uh… sorry, I've never seen that either."

"Have you ever ridden a Pegasus?"

"No."

"Been to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary? Seen real dragons up close?"

"No."

"Maybe your idea of fun is just low-class. Surely you've heard of Gobstones?"

"Sorry, I don't know any of the things you're talking about."

The air grew awkwardly silent. Draco stopped talking, and Harry didn't feel like speaking either. They just stared at each other until Draco suddenly smirked, as if he'd figured something out.

"I get it now! You're a Mudblood!"

Harry had been holding back his frustration ever since Dobby led him upstairs. Though he didn't understand the word 'Mudblood', the tone Draco used made it clear that it was an insult!

"What's a Mudblood?"

"Of course, it's those whose parents are Muggles, dirty and lowly, who have tainted the name of wizards with their vile blood!"

Draco sneered viciously.

Harry clenched his fists behind his back, still trying to stay calm.

"My parents were probably both wizards. Although I'm not what you're saying, you're being really rude."

"Stop lying! A Mudblood is a Mudblood! 'Probably both wizards'… who doesn't even know who their own parents are? That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard!"

"You should really stop talking to me like that."

"Oh, what? Going to throw a tantrum now? Snape must be a complete idiot, taking in a Mudblood as his student! Maybe I should tell my father to cut ties with-"

At this time, Harry pounced on Draco like a nimble cheetah!

He knocked Draco to the ground, who hadn't reacted yet, and rode on him. Then he raised his fist and slammed it straight into Draco's pale, terrified face!

"Did you not brush your teeth this morning?! I told you, you'd better not speak to me with that foul breath of yours!"

…

Drawing Room.

After Severus spoke those words, the pure-blood wizards all exchanged uneasy glances.

Among them, some might have thought Severus was exaggerating, but they all foresaw the possibility he described.

If Barty Jr. hadn't been stopped by Severus and had truly escalated the situation-

Seven children killed by werewolves, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Barty Crouch Sr. murdered by his own son in their home, and then the Dark Mark appearing in the sky, with Barty Jr. declaring the Death Eaters' return… yet the Dark Lord himself did not return

What would the Ministry of Magic do?

How would the wizarding public react?

The Aurors would undoubtedly hunt down Barty Jr. and his followers like rabid dogs. After eight years of peace, the wizarding community, unwilling to return to those turbulent times, would be outraged!

Unless the Dark Lord himself appeared to quell the chaos, no one else could suppress such a situation.

If Barty Jr. were eventually caught, that would be one thing… but if he weren't, someone would have to take the blame.

And who would that be?

In this Wizarding World, who else still had ties to the Death Eaters?

The answer is obvious.

Though many of the pure-blood wizards present believed that even if things escalated to that point, they wouldn't truly face the 'dead end' Severus described, they would undoubtedly suffer heavy losses.

As they pondered this, Lucius had already pieced everything together. His gaze remained fixed on Severus, who was calmly sipping his tea.

"You stopped him from making things worse, but Barty Jr. isn't satisfied with it. He came to us, demanding that we help him rebuild the Death Eaters' structure and search for the Dark Lord!"

"You're reluctant, aren't you?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"If we were willing, you wouldn't have been threatened when you walked in… we'd have simply attacked you." Perkins said darkly.

"But what if the Dark Lord really does return?" Nott voiced their deepest fear, "We don't want to comply with Barty, but we also don't dare refuse him outright! If he actually finds the Dark Lord, what then? This would be betrayal!"

"Betrayal?"

Severus repeated the word softly, then shook his head.

"Your understanding is far too shallow."

"How so?" Goyle raised his voice, "If the Dark Lord is truly alive, and during his first downfall, we chose self-preservation over loyalty… and now, when a truly devoted servant like Barty steps forward, asking for our help to find him, we refuse again… isn't that betrayal?!"

"You're right, but only if Barty's actions are truly for the Dark Lord's benefit, if he genuinely wants to find him."

Severus's gaze swept over the dozen or so pairs of eyes in the room.

"Even if the Dark Lord is alive, his absence all these years must be part of his plan. If we are truly loyal to him, the best thing we should do is to lie low, gather strength, and wait for his return… not stir up trouble under the Death Eaters' name and bring him unnecessary trouble!"

"You can't fool yourself with that! Do you really think the Dark Lord would believe such an excuse if he returned?"

A pure-blood wizard named Rosier scoffed impatiently.

"Stop trying to deceive us with pretty words. None of us are fools, and neither is the Dark Lord! A single look into his eyes, and he'll know exactly what we're thinking. No matter how eloquently you justify your actions as 'loyalty', it won't save you from punishment!"

The other pure-blood wizards obviously thought so too.

Severus's argument was pure sophistry!

Explaining oneself to Voldemort wasn't a debate… it was about whether he believed you!

And obviously, he wouldn't believe such words, especially if Barty Jr. really brought him back.

"I know what you're thinking, but if you can't even convince yourselves of this loyalty, how can you expect the Dark Lord to believe it?"

"You've all misunderstood what defines loyalty in his eyes. The key isn't what you're doing in the Wizarding World right now… it's whether, if he is alive, we find him first! Before Barty does. We must define our own actions… and theirs."

"In simple terms: we must strike first and accuse them back!"

Lucius found Severus's words absurd.

"Do you even hear yourself, Severus?"

"I know exactly what I'm saying!" Severus stood, looking down at the other, "The real reason you don't want to help Barty search for the Dark Lord is that even if he is alive, and you do help find him, the credit will go to Barty. Your standing will plummet, and you'll be overshadowed by the Lestranges and their ilk."

"But if you refuse to help, you fear he might still succeed… and your fate will be far worse."

"That's why you've gathered here with me."

"But there's a perfect solution right in front of us."

"We can completely draw a line between ourselves and Barty, refuse to provide him with any help or cooperation, and make it clear to the Ministry that we are not loyal to the Dark Lord. That keeps them off our backs."

"Then, in secret, we'll find the Dark Lord ourselves! Serve him, prove our worth, and show him that we, not the Crouches or the Lestranges, are his most loyal, dependable followers!"

Lucius stood up from his chair with a mixture of panic and surprise, and many people around him also stood up in shock.

"Y-You're talking nonsense, Severus! Even Barty has no solid leads on the Dark Lord's whereabouts! How could we possibly find him?"

At this time, Severus slowly sat back in his armchair.

Crossing his legs, he took a slow sip of tea and said calmly, "I may, in fact, possess some… undisclosed clues."